


Life Preserver

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Drug Addict Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Minor Injuries, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Top Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock calls Lestrade when he needs help. Greg just hopes that's enough to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Preserver

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” growled Greg, heaving Sherlock to his feet and wrapping an arm around him. At least his car was close by. The young man was half out of his mind, but at least he didn’t fight as he was poured into the passenger seat and buckled in.

He should take him somewhere professional to get sober and clean up. But he didn’t want to do that. Ever since Sherlock had started showing up at his crime scenes, he’d been finding himself more and more intrigued. And when Sherlock had texted him tonight he hadn’t hesitated to come. Looked like he’d been roughed up a bit too, there was a cut on his temple.

They reached his flat and Greg helped him inside and into a chair. He went to make some extra strong coffee and get the first aid kit, pushing the mug into Sherlock’s hands and moving to clean up the cut.

“Ow,” hissed Sherlock, jerking away and suddenly far more awake.

“You’re welcome,” said Greg. “Drink your coffee.”

Grumbling, Sherlock nursed it, making a face. “What was it this time?” asked Greg.

“I was following a suspect,” said Sherlock to his coffee. “He jumped me.”

“And you’re high.” Greg finished what he was doing and closed the kit. “And this is why I won’t allow you on my cases until you are sober. You’ve got a good mind there, Sherlock, I hate to see you waste it.” He’d seen far too many kids burn themselves up in this line of work. He turned to put the kit away, but Sherlock’s hand reached out to snag his wrist. The hand was large and pale and insistent. Sherlock caught his eyes, full of promise.

“You’re high,” repeated Greg. “I’m not doing that either, unless you’re in you’re right mind.” He pulled away and stalked back into the kitchen.

Sherlock had settled into a huff on the couch by the time he got back. Certainly heading for a full on sulk. Greg ignored him, hit the lights and went to his bedroom.

He woke early from habit and stretched, surprised to find a hand on his stomach. Looking over he saw Sherlock had curled up at the edge of the bed, carefully not getting too close, but letting his lanky arm stretch out so his hand reached Greg. In the morning light he looked young. Probably too young, but Greg knew his age and knew what the young man wanted. And if they were both consenting adults the truth was he didn't mind.

But that was the rub. Sherlock needed to be sober to consent. Greg carefully slipped out of bed and covered Sherlock with the blanket, heading for the shower. He tried not to think about the pale eyes and long fingers as he stepped under the water. His cock twitched with interest and he firmly told it to behave itself.

He dressed and got ready to walk out the door, Sherlock was still asleep. Silently wondering at himself for the wisdom of leaving an addict asleep in his flat, Greg went on to work, closing the door quietly.

The day was its usual rush. Rarely a dull day for New Scotland Yard. At least there weren’t any major cases and he was able to head home at a reasonable time. To his surprise, Sherlock was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a pot of spaghetti. He was wearing his jeans and one of Greg’s old t-shirts, something entirely too big for him. It was oddly sexy.

“If you’re looking to get back on my good side, there’s worse ways,” said Greg, hanging up his coat.

“I am aware,” said Sherlock, dishing them both plates. Greg noticed again how skinny Sherlock was. Have to make sure he ate all of his food tonight.

“You stayed in all day?” asked Greg.

“I did not get high. That is what you are asking.” As always, Sherlock cut right to the point.

Greg pointed a fork at him. “Go a week. And I’ll let you in on a case.” Sherlock’s eyes lit up. “A small one. A month and I’ll let you go at a larger one.”

“I could save you time now if you’d let me on your scene.” Sherlock had stopped eating to reach for his hand on the table.

“That’s the offer Sherlock, take it or leave it.” Greg twisted up a forkful of spaghetti and fed it to Sherlock.

The young man chewed thoughtfully for a few moments. “Very well,” he said at least. Keeping his eyes on Greg’s, he entwined his fingers in the Inspectors.

“As for that. Well, apparently you were good today.” Greg knew this was a bad idea. He also didn’t care. Not with those pale eyes turning predatory and needy all at once and the hand warm in his own. “Eat your supper, then we’ll see about it, ‘kay?”

Sherlock nodded and disengaged his hand, making his food disappear fast. When they finished, he followed Greg into the kitchen before taking the sponge from him and starting on the dishes. Greg moved behind him and placed his hands on Sherlock’s hips. Leaning in, he could tell that Sherlock had used his shampoo, but it smelled different on him. Slowly, he planted a kiss on the side of the young man’s neck.

Humming softly in pleasure, Sherlock’s hands stilled. “Leave the dishes to soak,” said Greg, wrapping his arms around his middle and holding him against his growing erection, continuing to kiss his neck and shoulder. Greg’s hands slid underneath the t-shirt to palm Sherlock’s belly.

Sherlock leaned back against him, shifting his arse to rub delightfully against his trousers. Greg needed to get him out of those jeans and into his bed. As soon as possible. He let one hand squeeze Sherlock’s cock through his clothes, before reluctantly pulling away. “Bedroom, come on.”

He didn’t wait to see if Sherlock was following him as he made his way down the short hall.  
Reaching the room, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed, loosening his shoes to toe them off. Sherlock hesitated only a moment before coming forward and going to his knees. He shifted between the Inspector’s thighs and reached for his belt.

Greg ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to keep doing this if you don’t want to,” he said quietly, watching him. “You can stay here as long as you need to, regardless.”

Sherlock shook his head. “I do want this. As do you.” He got the trousers open and Greg lifted up so he tug off his trousers and pants. Greg started undoing the buttons of his shirt as Sherlock leaned in to swallow his cock.

 _Christ_ Sherlock’s mouth was good for more than just talking back. Greg got his shirt open and peeled it off before gripping Sherlock’s hair and tugging lightly. He was rewarded with a moan that reverberated down his shaft. Watching his cock disappear between those plush lips was a sight he never would get tired of.

He didn’t let Sherlock go at him too long before he pulled him back off his cock. Still holding his hair, Greg crashed their lips together, craving that sweet kiss. Sherlock groaned as Greg got him to his feet. He broke the kiss only long enough to strip the younger man’s clothes, then gently pushed him back onto the bed.

Sherlock looked up at him as he scooted further back, licking his lips. Greg devoured another kiss before collecting lube and a condom. He climbed over Sherlock, kissing him again as he blindly coated his fingers and pressed one inside.

Blinking, he pulled back and looked at where his finger was easily sliding in and out, adding in a second one. “Sherlock…”

“I said I did not get high today. I did not say that I stayed asleep in bed for the duration.” Sherlock was watching, not quite as much bravado on his face as there was in his words.

“Did you get yourself off?” ask Greg, scissoring his fingers.

Sherlock moaned and tossed his head before shaking it. “N..no.”

Greg believed him. But if he knew one thing about Sherlock Holmes it was that he was a master manipulator. No doubt this whole evening had planned to get Greg to this point. Well, it’s not like he’d argued about it. Now, if he could get and keep his sobriety, that would be an accomplishment. He pushed in a third finger and Sherlock moaned again, spreading his legs wide. Greg ripped the condom open with his teeth and rolled it onto his cock.

Withdrawing his fingers, Greg leaned in to kiss up his jaw. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I always want you.” 

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but then Greg snapped his hips forward and the words were lost in a shout. Greg set a fast pace, knowing just what Sherlock liked. He buried a hand in his hair again and exposed his neck, leaning in to suck and nibble and mark that pale column. 

Hands squeezed his broad shoulders as long legs tangled around his waist. Sherlock’s panting cries were loud in his ear. His cock slid along Greg’s belly, leaving a slick trail. Greg shifted his hips and Sherlock cried out again, fingers nearly bruising his shoulders.

Now that the younger man’s prostate was found, Greg was relentless in driving against it. Sherlock’s cries turned to babble and pleas and moans. Greg let go of his hair to brace himself and look down at Sherlock’s face. It was transformed by ecstasy, the careful mask of haughtiness thrown away. He looked vulnerable. He looked delicious.

Greg captured his lips again, swallowing his cries and giving just a few more hard thrusts. They came at nearly the same time, Sherlock clinging to Greg as if he were the only safe place in a sea of torment.

Smoothing his hands through Sherlock’s hair, Greg held him as he came came back down. When Sherlock finally released him, he leaned in to kiss him one more time before pulling out and quickly going to the bathroom. He binned the condom and came back with a warm rag to wipe Sherlock up.

He thought Sherlock had fallen asleep already, but he cracked open his eyes as Greg tossed the rag on the side table and stretched out along his side. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“You’re welcome.” Greg watched him fall asleep, hoping against hope that he would be enough to save him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much all Shellysbees fault. And thanks to beautifullyheeled as well. You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
